


like teenagers

by foundCarcosa



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Drunk Blow Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-13 21:46:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3397493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foundCarcosa/pseuds/foundCarcosa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The lush and his normally strait-laced boyfriend get drunk at a bar, and... well, you can guess the rest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	like teenagers

He didn’t drink. Everyone that knew him knew that. But the thing about Tony was, he could always catch you off your guard, get you to do something uncharacteristic with just a youthful smile and a few coy words. And James Rhodes had yet to build an immunity to his charms, so here he was, in a hoppin’ bar in… what city was this? San Diego?  
And was this his third or fourth boilermaker in his hand…?

"Hey, Rhodey. Rhodey. You like chicks too, don’t you?" Tony didn’t wait for an answer, but pointed down the length of the bar and leaned closer as if to whisper conspiratorially. He weaved in place instead, nearly falling into Rhodes, who, strangely enough, didn’t mind all that much for once. "How about that one. We should grab that one. Bring her back with us. Double her pleasure, double her fun, right? That’s how it goes, right? Ha!"

"Don’t do that, Tony," Rhodes replied mildly, lifting his glass to his lips. The bass was getting to his head, making his brain vibrate, slowing down his speech. "That ain’t right, don’t do that."

"You drunk yet?" Tony leaned in again, peering with naked fascination into Rhodes’ face. Rhodes smiled at him; he couldn’t seem to help it. "Yeah. Yeah, you’re totally shitfaced, man." He broke up into loud laughter, punching the air with his fists in a victory move. "I got… _James Rhodes_ … shitfaced! Yeah!”

"Did not," Rhodes protested without much force. Maybe he was. He couldn’t recall being this amused at Tony’s drunken antics before. "I’m good. Betcha I could even fly a suit like this.”

"Could you? Right now?" Tony stayed close this time, his fingers making a sloppy trail down Rhodes’ button-up and catching in his waistband. "You look good in my suits, Rhodey. I like you in my suits. I like me in my suits better, but I like you in my suits."

Well, apparently he wasn’t _too_ drunk. He could feel the blood hightailing it through his veins, taking the southern route, pooling in his groin. Tony, close as he was, felt Rhodes’ body stir and grinned, his teeth catching on his bottom lip in a youthfully coy gesture.

"Come on," he goaded, grabbing Rhodes’ wrist and tugging him away from the bar. Rhodes protested, not least because it was suddenly uncomfortable to walk, but Tony kept tugging, so Rhodes kept walking.  
Tony’s hair gleamed under the lights. Rhodes didn’t realise he’d reached out to touch it until Tony laughed and batted his hand away.

They barrelled into the blissfully dim and quiet bathroom, and the door had barely been latched before Tony was fumbling with Rhodes’ belt, nuzzling his flushed face into the taller man’s throat. Rhodes’ shoulders collided with the wall; Tony successfully undid the buckle, and Rhodes undid the fly.

"God, Rhodey," Tony breathed, squeezing his hardness through the boxer briefs. Rhodes’ head was spinning lazily, dizzy from bloodloss and drink, and he leaned his skull against the wall as Tony sank to his knees and pressed a hungry open-mouthed kiss to the cotton-covered bulge, laying his tongue flat against it and letting the wet warmth soak through and make Rhodes twitch impatiently.

"Shit, Tony, get on with it, will you?" Tony laughed as he pulled away, slipping his fingers under the waistband and lowering them, breathing his warm breath over Rhodes’ erection as it’s exposed inch by inch. When it pops free, the rebound catches him in the chin, and he laughs again, giddily, before licking his lips and getting down to it.

It’s a sloppy, wet affair, the alcohol ruining Tony’s sense of rhythm and yet making him hungrier, Rhodes’ cock slipping over his tongue and hitting the back of his throat and meeting no resistance. The thick swallowing sounds make Rhodes shudder and buck his hips, his hands clenching tight in Tony’s hair, and he isn’t usually vocal like Tony but he’s grunting as he thrusts into Tony’s open mouth, and that familiar prickly heat is spreading over him just before his balls tighten—

He’ll never admit it, especially once he sobers up, but it’s that one quiet gagging sound that Tony makes as Rhodes presses his face into his groin that pushes him over the edge, sends his seed rocketing out of him with surprising force, and he hisses a long, agonised _"Sssshit—!"_ as he holds Tony’s head still and thrusts once, twice more—

"Ow, you _brute._ Now I’m going to need hot tea and a massage,” Tony croaked reproachfully as he stood up, massaging his throat.

"Gonna need more than that," Rhodes pointed out as he flicked the overhead bulb on and notes the damp, telling patch on Tony’s trousers.


End file.
